


If I Could Be Anything, I'd Be Yours

by justanothernobody



Category: K-pop, NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Alternate Universe - Photographer, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Mark Lee (NCT), Boys In Love, Busking, Denial of Feelings, Do not repost, Feelings Realization, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Fucking, I REPEAT DO NOT REPOST THIS FIC ON ANY OTHER SITE, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun & Suh Youngho | Johnny Are Best Friends, Light Angst, M/M, Muses, Photo Shoots, Photographer Suh Youngho | Johnny, Photography, Porn with Feelings, Singing, Top Suh Youngho | Johnny, alright now for the smutty tags, this story is so everywhere im actually confused how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:33:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24352159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanothernobody/pseuds/justanothernobody
Summary: There's a lot of things Johnny likes about Mark.Mark's giggly and will laugh at all his jokes — even all the lame ones. He's willing to go with almost all of Johnny's ideas. He's got a lot of things he likes that Johnny likes too. But most importantly – being with Mark is fun.Being with Mark is fun because they just – click together.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Suh Youngho | Johnny, slight dojae - Relationship
Comments: 29
Kudos: 226





	If I Could Be Anything, I'd Be Yours

**Author's Note:**

> right,,,, uhhh,,,, i didn't even know how this idea made itself but here it is. the photographer johnny x muse mark au that i have always wanted. vaguely inspired from late night punch punch show where apparently mark was johnny's muse. without further ado, johnmark nation pls enjoy!

_It’s funny_ , Johnny thinks _, how the world works in unknown ways._

“Yo, Johnny? You okay?” Mark must’ve caught him staring again. It’s rare for Johnny to be uprooted to the ground, to stare and admire for a moment too long.

Johnny Suh is an artist — already a world-renowned photographer at the young age of 27 — and he’s not a stranger to beautiful things anymore. He’s acquainted well enough to not stop and stare, to take a camera and immortalise the image instead.

But Mark isn’t just beautiful. He is otherworldly, Johnny thinks, as he scans his gaze down Mark’s face. From the way his soft brown locks frame his delicate face, his curious gaze, down his nose and stopping at pastel pink lips.

Johnny has many strengths, but resistance is definitely not one of them.

He lets the camera hang from his neck as he steps into the photoshoot setup. Mark’s eyes follow every move, watching as Johnny’s goes over to him and bends to capture his lips in a soft kiss.

Just as Johnny starts to pull away Mark inches his head forward, chasing the older man’s lips. Johnny lets him, if the way he smiles into the kiss is anything to go by. Mark’s always gotten what he wanted when it comes to Johnny.

They finally stop when Mark gently pushes Johnny off with a hand to his chest, Mark panting for air as he stares up into Johnny’s eyes. His lips are rosy red and slick with spit. His cheeks are nicely flushed. Johnny tucks back some hair behind his ear.

He holds the camera and snaps a picture.

•••

Johnny first met Mark when he was walking down the streets of Hongdae. That had been almost three years ago.

Still young, naive, and fresh out of college, Johnny started his work in taking pictures at weddings and parties. He would be freelancing on weekdays, trying to get a following on social media to boost his earnings, and go to whatever event has booked him to take even more pictures on weekends. It was tedious work, and Johnny felt like he was clicking his camera on autopilot all the time. But his clients were satisfied, and Johnny won't complain, especially after they pay him more for his work well done. 

It’s enough to earn him an odd balance of comfort and exhaustion, and Johnny finds that he’s fallen into some sort of comfort zone.

On one particular night, though, he takes the subway all the way to Hongdae. He walks around the area aimlessly, looking for things to capture on his camera. Sometimes the process takes him hours, sometimes it only takes minutes.

Tonight it takes longer than usual. At 11 p.m. Johnny is beginning to feel frustrated every time he walks into every street corner and doesn’t find anything worth a photograph. He walks and walks further and stops his hunt at the public park because he’s so tired.

The park is not too crowded, especially at this time of night. Johnny spots two dancers from his spot at the bench. The cup in front of them is halfway full with bills and coins, and Johnny guesses they must’ve been out here long already.

To his left, there’s a singer. He stands against a wall and sings as he plays the guitar. His fingers strum each string, his mouth saying the words to the song he’s playing – a song by Lorde, Johnny notes. He doesn’t have much of an accent too, he must be a foreigner like Johnny is.

Johnny finds himself captivated as the man starts another song, a Korean one this time. Johnny taps his foot along with the beat and fumbles with the camera on his lap. He brings it up to eye-level, zooming in on his subject and takes a picture with a ‘click’.

When he finishes up the song, Johnny makes sure to approach him. He puts a five-thousand-won note into his open guitar case. The man smiles and says, “Thank you.”

“No – thank _you._ I’ve been trying to take photos all night and you’ve really helped me out, man.”

The man introduces himself as Mark Lee, and makes him promise to send him the photos Johnny’s taken.

And the rest is history.

•••

There's a lot of things Johnny likes about Mark.

Mark's giggly and will laugh at all his jokes — even all the lame ones. He's willing to go with almost all of Johnny's ideas. He's got a lot of things he likes that Johnny likes too. But most importantly – being with Mark is fun.

Being with Mark is fun because they just – click together. Like now, when it's late at night and the alcohol they drank makes everything hazy, Mark stumbles into him and Johnny laughs. They hold on to each other as the elevator climbs up to the 7th floor. Johnny can feel Mark's breaths in gentle puffs across his neck. It takes longer than usual to walk to his room. And when they do reach it Johnny has to fumble with his keys first, before being able to get inside and quite literally slam Mark against the closest flat surface – which oh-so-conveniently was the wall. They make out for god knows how long and Mark accidently bites his lower lip too harsh, but Johnny likes it. He likes how the pain grounds him that way, so that he’s hyper-aware of Mark kissing him senseless and leaving traces of their night. When they part the metallic taste of blood still lingers on mouth.

Mark drags him out the hallway, and for a second Johnny's sure they're headed to his bedroom, but Mark pulls him into the living room and pushes him down on the couch. He straddles Johnny's hips and kisses him again, helping Johnny shrug out of the leather jacket he wore for the night. Johnny helps him unbutton the silk shirt – courtesy of Johnny’s closet – that he's wearing. Right when Mark's about to pull it off his shoulders, Johnny stops him. "keep it like that."

Impatient, Mark feverishly nods. He unzips Johnny's ripped jeans and only manages to get it pushed to his knees. Mark takes his own pants off and fists both their cocks in his hands.

"C'mon, baby, I wanna fuck you," Johnny whispers, right against his ear. He can feel Mark shudder as he moans _yes_.

Johnny spits into his palm and hopes saliva will have to do tonight. Mark doesn't tell him no ─ in fact Johnny swears Mark looks even more turned on ─ he only watches with half-lidded eyes as he sits up and lines his cock with his hole. Mark goes down and moans loudly. The shirt slips down past his shoulders and pools at his elbow, and the contrast of black silk against his pale skin looks like art to Johnny.

It never lasts long when Johnny and Mark are drunk. Both are impatient, relentless in the pursuit of pleasure. Johnny sets a quick pace – Mark wants it faster. He thrusts up into Mark’s tight heat and Mark fucks down and he can see the younger’s thighs tremble. Johnny holds him steady against his chest and murmurs praises into his ear as he fucks harder. Their bodies move against each other and finally Mark comes first, muffling a shout in Johnny’s lips.

Mark clenches once, twice, before Johnny follows suit. They make a mess on the cushions, but that’s a problem for tomorrow. Instead, Mark pulls off after several minutes pass by. Johnny sees his come trickle down his thighs and if he still had energy, he would surely get hard again. He takes tissues from the coffee table and helps Mark clean both of them up.

They manage to move to Johnny’s bedroom, and Johnny falls asleep almost instantly.

And in the morning, Johnny wakes up first as always. The gaps of the curtain let sunlight enter the dark room in harsh lines. Johnny stands up to fully close them. He stands up from the bed, except Mark seems to notice and for a second he thinks the younger man is awake. But that proves to be wrong, because Mark only turns his body over and sleeps like a rock again. Johnny chuckles at the sight.

He goes to the curtains now, ready to tug them shut. But Johnny glances again at Mark, fast asleep after a long night. The rays of light that filter through shine over him. Coupled with the grey sheets and the blanket haphazardly covering him, it looks exactly like a sepia-filtered picture – in the loosest meaning of word, because Johnny hates sepia but that is sadly the only thing he can compare it to. Maybe he’d start liking it now, seeing that Mark looks otherworldly _ethereal_ in it.

He leaves the curtains as is. Instead, he goes for his camera. Johnny takes a picture instead.

•••

Mark isn’t Johnny’s first muse, he learns.

They’re outside now, in the streets of Gangnam as Johnny’s mentioned he wanted a change of scenery for once. The glare of the late morning sun is hot on his back. Sweat runs down the side of his face. The heat is unbearable, but Mark tries to not complain. After all, he’s agreed to this too. There’s no use in stopping if they come home empty-handed.

Johnny pulls him to the side of the road and lets him style the deep blue jacket he has on, playing around with how his shirt collar lays out on it. It’s one among the many things Mark learns about Johnny – that he’s got an amazing sense of style. It makes him look effortlessly well-dressed, and Mark wishes he has some of that skill too.

Mark closes his eyes as Johnny tugs bits of his hair to frame his face. His hand works on them and once he’s done, they linger on his cheek. Johnny looks around, and leaves a searing kiss on Mark’s unexpecting lips.

Mark makes a noise of confusion, and his eyes open in surprise. But they quickly flutter close as he kisses Johnny back just as fervently.

“All done,” Johnny says, right after pulling away, as if that’s enough to explain everything. Mark, still flustered, whines incoherently. Johnny only chuckles, and brings his camera out.

“You ready?”

Johnny ends their shoot when it’s almost evening, when the sun is minutes away from sinking. He shows Mark the photos they’ve taken, and he sounds so happy with the results. Mark finds that his happiness is infectious, and it tugs a smile on Mark’s face too.

“Let’s get dinner, yeah? My treat, for our work well done.”

They walk side by side through the throng of people, Mark’s hand in Johnny’s as he leads them to whatever place Johnny’s planning on eating at that night.

They reach a small place, tucked away in a less crowded lane. It’s busy in the restaurant, but Mark manages to find a seat outside while Johnny orders to the auntie managing the restaurant inside.

He sees Johnny turn to head back to their table, and for a moment Mark thinks his guess is right. But he sees him called by one of the four people queuing and Johnny greeting them. From this angle, he can see the man’s Johnny talking to. His wavy hair is dyed ash brown and it lays over his forehead. He’s almost as tall as Johnny, which is rare – Johnny usually towers over people, and seeing someone almost his height is something new. He laughs at something Johnny says, right before their conversation ends and Johnny finally comes to sit at their table.

“Who was he?” Mark asks, curious.

“A friend of mine. I haven’t seen him in ages.”

“Hm,” Mark nods. “He looks nice,” he says. And Mark doesn’t mean it but his tone comes out almost bitter. Even Johnny raises his brow in response. But Johnny always manages to answer things as nice as he can – without sugar-coating, but vague enough so that it comes out as a neutral response. This time is no different.

“He is. His name’s Jaehyun – I used to take pictures of him too.”

The auntie comes out to serve their food, putting the plates off her tray and down on their table. The plate of _tteokbokki_ is served first, then the plate of _kimbap_ comes next. Mark is grateful, because he’s got something to munch on so that Johnny won’t ask questions. He doubts it – if anything, it’s _Mark_ who still has questions on his mind that he just _has_ to ask.

“Why did you stop, then?” He continues.

“He wanted new opportunities, I guess.” Johnny responds, while picking up a piece of rice cake with chopsticks and scrapes sauce from the corners of the bowl with it. “and Jae’s got a boyfriend, too. I was in their way if they wanted their relationship to work out well. I shouldn’t interfere with that.” He finally puts the food in his mouth.

“So you decided to end things? Just like that?”

“Well, it was best if he stopped working with me. Jaehyun’s my best friend, first and foremost, and he deserves better than that.”

Mark hums in reply. For a while it’s silent, just the sound of the nightly crowd filling their ears. Mark takes his time to swallow down the rest of the food he’s been chewing on before asking again, “Would you cut it off too, if the same that happened to Jaehyun happened to me too?”

“It’s all up to you, really,” Johnny replies with a shrug. “What, you’re tired of working with me already?” He teases.

Mark flushes a bit, but weakly reasons back, “I- I don’t mean it like that, John! I mean like, like…” he trails off. It’s adorably funny how he tries to gesture what he means when he’s run out of words. Johnny absolutely doesn’t understand the charade, but he laughs anyways because Mark looks hilarious. Johnny finally pities him when Mark just pouts instead.

“Alright, alright. I get you, man,” Johnny says, the remains of laughter in his voice. “Why don’t we get dessert? I was thinking of sharing some _bingsoo_.”

Mark’s eyes light up, and he says, “Yo! I was about to say the same thing! Let’s get the strawberry _bingsoo_ , hyung.”

And thus begins the time when Johnny tries to not stare at Mark’s red strawberry-syrup-stained lips – in which he fails miserably at.

•••

Every time Johnny hits a new milestone, he makes a point in rewarding himself.

The first time, it was dinner paid with his first pay-check from taking pictures at his cousin’s wedding. The second one was for his Instagram posts being noticed by the famous K-pop idol Lee Taeyong.

Mark is there to witness the third milestone – a position as their photographer offered by an indie magazine called ‘Neo Zone’.

He’s there to see Johnny hold back a scream of joy as the agent and he make an appointment to discuss the details of his soon-to-be job. And he’s also there when Johnny arrives home after being officially hired.

Naturally, Mark needs to be there too for when Johnny rewards himself.

He tells Mark all this over the phone, including asking him to celebrate with Johnny to. They agree to meet up at a club near Mark’s university.

And Mark certainly has dressed to impress tonight. Not like he needs to, because Johnny’s always impressed with Mark, but still. It’s eye candy, way different than the sweatshirts he wears on a daily basis, and Johnny will gladly absorb all of it with his eyes. Mark’s wearing a leather jacket over a white graphic tee and some fitted black jeans. If Johnny looks closely, he can see the hint of clear lip gloss glistening on his lips.

He looks good as hell, and Johnny’s sure Mark’s aware that he hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of the younger man the whole night. He certainly knows, if the way he’s been smiling coyly is anything to go by. Johnny buys them shots, and Mark pulls him to the dance floor as the night progresses. Mark has his hands on his shoulders, and Johnny’s holding him by the hips. It’s clumsy – the way they try to dance together amidst the crowd – but it’s nice how close they are, how Mark’s warmth is so near it’s intoxicating.

Johnny can’t resist himself, he leans to kiss Mark, and Mark eagerly uses the chance to shove his tongue past his lips. He can still taste the remnants of the salt that had rimmed the glass filled with tequila, gulped down right before they made their way to the dance floor. Mark’s hand in his hair pushes his head closer, until Johnny can’t tell where he ends and Mark starts anymore. Or maybe that’s just the alcohol making things hazy – whatever it is, he likes it.

“My place isn’t far from here,” Mark murmurs when they part, already breathless from their kiss. His eyes glint with promises of what more in store tonight, and Johnny is just a man – a weak, weak man.

“Lead the way.”

Messy – that’s the word Johnny would use to describe them. It’s messy when they climb up the stairs leading to Mark’s apartment unit. It’s messy when they stumble into the room, lips still attached, hands struggling to pop buttons and tug at their trousers. It’s messy when they make it to Mark’s bedroom, closing the door even if his roommate is out and it’s only the two of them in the place.

Mark’s the one who pushes him against the door, impatient. He’s the one who pulls Johnny down to his height so he can kiss him easier. And he’s the one who breaks the silence with a, “I wanna blow you. Can I blow you?”

Johnny moans in response. He gasps, “Do it, baby.” Mark eagerly goes down, makes himself comfortable between Johnny’s spread legs and pulls him by the belt loops of his jeans. He bites on the zipper and tugs it down, and the sight of it is enough to make his cock twitch. Mark slips the button out, tugs the denim down along with his boxers, and holds his cock by the base. His hand barely is able to wrap around his girth, and the it’s such a turn-on and so hot Mark can’t resist tasting him. He gives in and licks at the head first. Johnny grunts, and Mark swallows down half of his cock. He bobs his head and licks the vein running on the underside, swipes through the slit and tastes the bitter precome on his tongue.

He's stopped by Johnny’s hand pulling his hair to tilt his head up. Mark stares back at him, mouth still stuffed with his hard cock. Johnny gulps visibly, and Mark spares him by pulling his mouth off him.

They scramble onto the bed, Mark's hand diving under his pillow to find the bottle of lube he keeps there. Johnny coats his fingers and pushes in one, then two, then three. Mark can't wait any longer. And it seems like Johnny's the same, for minutes later he's pulling them out and wiping them clean on the sheets.

Johnny lines up his cock with Mark's hole and enters him to the hilt. Mark chokes on a breath as his walls clench tightly around him.

“C’mon now, baby,” he whispers. “Beg for me to fuck you.”

He teases Mark, not doing anything even when his cock is already seated deep inside him. It takes a lot of self-restraint to not move already and fuck the younger man senseless, but Johnny is more patient than he lets on.

Mark mutters, and Johnny knows exactly what he’s saying. He pretends not to hear – he feels like being cruel tonight.

“Speak up, darling” Johnny smiles sweetly.

The flush on his cheeks redden even more and Mark brings an arm up to cover his eyes.

“ _Gods_ , Johnny... I want you to fuck me. _Please_ fuck me.”

“Good boy,” Johnny praises. He moves his hips first to test the waters, grinds them in figure eights. When Mark whines at him to do more, Johnny complies.

He goes at it roughly, not wasting any time and fucking _in-out-in-out_ swiftly. The drag of his thick length against Mark’s tight walls feel so amazing, he can’t help but groan each time.

“Fuck, Mark,” a thrust, “feel so good around my cock.”

Mark wants to berate him for saying such cliché words, but all he manages is a moan that’s so loud and desperate in its intensity. Johnny sets a tortuous rhythm, punishingly harsh every time he snaps his hips forward. All Mark can do muffle his voice by biting his lips.

“Think you can handle it? Me fucking your pretty little ass ‘till you can’t even stand up anymore?” He rolls his hips in emphasis.

Mark’s too distracted, but oh _lord_ — his incoherent cries sound so lewd and all of that goes directly to his cock.

“You’d want that, huh.”

The only response he gets is a shout as he hits his spot dead-on.

“Yes, yes! Ah — right there — yes, Johnny, I can handle it.”

He fucks Mark _fastfastfast_. Mark cries out when Johnny angles his hips. He zeroes in on that spot mercilessly. Mark’s arms tremble until he crashes down on his bed, face buried in the pillows as he crumples the sheets in his grip.

“Tell me baby,” Johnny whispers lowly into his ear. “Tell me how good I make you feel. Tell me how much you love it.”

“God- ah! You don’t even know how much I love it – oh, fuck! Yes, right there! You fuck me so good – so deep. I love it. I love everything you do to me. I love _you_ so much, Johnny, you don’t even know it.”

And Johnny stills, just for a moment. He’s surprised at that – at his plain drunken honesty. Johnny’s sure it’s a slip of tongue, some secret that Johnny should have never heard. He’s grateful that Mark isn’t all sober, because if he were Johnny isn’t sure what to do with the newfound knowledge. He doesn’t know how to handle it. And yet a part of him wishes that Mark _is_ , just so Johnny can hear him say the words when he’s a hundred percent sure Mark will remember the day after.

Johnny redeems himself, fucks Mark harder, bring his hips forward with such strength that he’s certain both he and Mark will be bruised. And Mark muffles a scream into the pillow when he comes. He follows soon after, rutting into Mark to the point of oversensitivity. If Mark notices how quiet he was when he cleans both of them up with a damn towel, Johnny’s glad that he decided not to say anything about it.

When they lay in bed side by side, with Mark already fast asleep on the right side of the bed, sleep evades Johnny. Thought run inside his head. His brain is on a rush, and it can’t stop churning out things to think of. Because Johnny isn’t supposed to ever know Mark’s in love with him. All of this was meant to be a fun way to release tension.

Simply put, Johnny doesn’t know what to do next.

•••

It’s not impossible to love Mark.

In fact, Johnny thinks it’s impossible to _not_ love the man in some sort of way. It’s the easiest thing in the world to fall in love Mark.

Mark has a pretty face, suitable for the camera and what Johnny calls ‘natural beauty’. His round eyes gleam with excitement and go adorably mismatched when he laughs. His skin is smooth and Johnny likes running his fingers on them, gentle caresses from the line of his jaw down to his chest. And his rosy lips will never fail to make Johnny want to kiss Mark some more.

Mark is young — Johnny says it as if he’s much _much_ older, but the four-year age difference between them is definitely visible. It’s in the way he carries himself. Mark has an air of awkward grace, like he’s only learnt to be comfortable in his skin yesterday. He stutters and giggles and talks too much yet Johnny’s still charmed by it. He sings with all his heart, breathes new life into old songs by other artists or writes melodies of his own that lay his emotions bare. He whines and moans when Johnny fucks him good and tears up when the pleasure gets overwhelming and Johnny’s likes that side of Mark too.

Mark’s exactly of Johnny’s type.

And for all the straightforwardness Johnny claims he has, he’s never acted upon it even once.

Because here’s the thing — Mark’s not in love with Johnny the way Johnny’s in love with him.

Mark loves Johnny, for sure. It’s not hard to notice. Definitely after said person has screamed _i love you_ right in your face. But Mark’s also in love with the world. He’s young and he has dreams bigger than the entire galaxy itself. Mark is dripping in ambitions and the man is more than fuelled to turn all of what he’s dreamt of into realities. Mark’s young and he’s in love with love itself. He’s reckless and he’s careful and he’s everything in between. He’s either extreme or mild and never in the middle, spontaneous and goal-oriented and never to be tied down.

And that’s where the problem lies at.

Johnny’s also ambitious, he’s brave enough to take risks and to try new experiences and live to the fullest. He’s willing but he’s rational, well-thought out even if it doesn’t show through. But Johnny wants to stop once he’s done doing everything. He wants to sit back and admire the product of his labour once he deems it done.

Mark, on the other hand, Johnny doesn’t know if he ever wants to stop.

He lives for _more_ and it’s admirable how he hasn’t even once thought of giving up.

Johnny can’t give him that. Johnny can give a home, a safety place, somewhere to return to, in the form of his open arms but Mark doesn’t need that. Mark needs freedom, and it is freedom that Johnny can’t give if he’s tied Mark down with him.

Johnny had never stood a chance. Come morning, Johnny does the only thing he knows how to do.

He finds an out.

•••

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t want to work with me anymore’?”

The expression on Mark’s face is the epitome of disbelief, like he can’t actually process the words Johnny has just said to him.

“I mean it, Mark. I don’t want to work with you anymore.” _No_ , Johnny doesn’t mean it – every fibre of his being wants to take the statement back, so that Mark can forget this has even happened. But no, Johnny’s face remains calm and cold and stoic as he lies to Mark.

Mark stays silent. His eyes search Johnny’s face for any trace of hesitance, and when he fails to find any he drops his gaze to the floor. If Johnny focuses hard enough, he can hear a sniffle or two from the younger man.

“Am I not enough, Johnny?” Mark asks, finally looking back up. He looks at Johnny with tears beginning to pool in his eyes, and Johnny has never seen something as devastating as this.

The lie already tastes bitter on his tongue before he even says it. “Not anymore, Mark,” he replies heavily.

He looks down again. Johnny can clearly see his face scrunch as he holds back tears. He bites on his bottom lip and tries, and even then a drop manages to escape and drip down his cheek.

Mark stands up abruptly. He takes Johnny’s bag from the couch, and throws it into Johnny’s lap.

“Get out,” he says, coldly. Johnny’s limbs feel numb, like he’s glued onto the chair and he can’t move anymore.

“I said get outta here!” Mark comes to him, angry – he has every right to be mad at him, Johnny thinks. Johnny stands up he pushes Johnny towards the door, uncaring that Johnny is headed there himself at his own pace. Mark pulls the door open and forces Johnny outside. Once in front, he stops. He turns to face Mark again. This time, the younger man’s already crying. Johnny so badly want to wipe the tears off his face.

“I’m sorry Mark,” he tries, one last time.

“No, you aren’t. Say that to me again once you actually mean it.”

He hears a sound, loud and terrible, but Johnny can’t tell if it came from the door slammed close or from his heart breaking into pieces.

•••

_#INTERLUDE: START_

Mark wakes up at noon.

The first thing he notices is the dimness of the room, the sun partially filtering through the curtains. His room is comfortably warm, and Mark would usually like it if not for the fact that he is getting unfamiliar with it.

It’s not like he could really forget how his room _feels_ , but he’s slept at Johnny’s place often for all the times they work — _worked_ — together. Johnny says it’s to make things more time-efficient. And he meant it well – he had a guest room ready for Mark to use.

Except every time after they’ve finished a shoot, they stumble into bed together and the guest room is never used.

It’s a lie when Mark says he doesn’t miss Johnny ─ doesn’t miss the way Johnny holds him after they’ve come down from the high of sex, doesn’t miss the way Johnny talks to him leisurely when they’re not having a romp, doesn’t miss the way Johnny hums songs when he’s getting ready for the day.

It’s kind of weird that he misses Johnny, Mark thinks. They’re not so intertwined into each other’s lives that it becomes weird that Mark isn’t with Johnny anymore. They’re not attached at the hip, unlike his roommate Donghyuck had insisted, but he’s already sunken quite deep into Johnny’s life that the older man’s presence is something to be missed.

He goes out one afternoon, just for fun. Donghyuck had insisted he go out, because he’s apparently been moping all two weeks. Mark adamantly denies it, but he agrees anyways. He dresses up in a t-shirt and jeans and brings his laptop to work on an essay at the coffee shop near his off-campus apartment.

He goes up to the register to order a drink ─ a caramel macchiato, to treat himself. He hands over the money to the worker behind the register, and he moves aside to wait for his order.

“Mark? Is that you?”

Mark looks back, turns his head to see they guy who’s talking to him. A familiar face appears in his line of vision.

“Jaehyun-hyung! Nice to see you.”

“Likewise. Didn’t expect to see you here, Mark.”

Mark nods absentmindedly. He vaguely hears his name called, and he finds his drink ready on the counter. He takes it, along with the straw handed to him and finds a seat near the window with Jaehyun.

Hhow have you been?” Jaehyun starts.

“The usual, hyung. Pulled an all-nighter last night, so i’m not feeling very stellar right now,” Mark says. Jaehyun chuckles in response, and it’s surprisingly easy to make conversation with him. Mark’s expected worse.

“What are you doing here anyways?”

“I’m waiting for my boyfriend,” Jaehyun proudly says, “you should meet him, if you’d like.” His eyes glimmer with unsuppressed excitement and Mark is in awe. _So this is how love changes people_ , he thinks.

“Wouldn’t I bother you two, though?”

Jaehyun laughs and brushes his concerns off. “Nonsense. Oh, he’s here!” Mark turns his head towards the shop’s door – and there he is. Jaehyun’s boyfriend looks around the busy shop in search of him. He finally spots them when Jaehyun waves his hand a bit to get his attention. He goes over to their table and sits beside Jaehyun.

“Sorry I’m late, Jae. The lab work I did failed so I had to redo most of it again,” he says. Jaehyun says _it’s alright_ and lets the other man sip his iced latte.

“Mark, this is Doyoung, my boyfriend. Doyoung-hyung, Mark, a friend of Johnny’s.”

They exchange pleasantries, and Mark learns that Doyoung is older than Jaehyun by a year. And that he is a grad student studying music in the same university Mark goes to. He’s definitely an interesting person, and Mark can see just why Jaehyun likes Doyoung. He’s funny, sarcastic, and it comes off as borderline mean sometimes, but he’s genuine. And Jaehyun’s truthful too – the two make a good pair. And Mark’s albeit jealous of how they both look so good together.

“Speaking of which ─ where’s Johnny? Aren’t you usually with him, Mark?” Doyoung asks. Mark has half a mind to reply with some nonsensical answer _– “he’s busy right now_ ,” or _, “he was tired so i went out alone”_ – but when he opens his mouth the answer that comes out is an honest, “We’re not together anymore.”

They weren’t even officially together in the first place, yet Mark’s stupid, stupid mind insists that they were. Mark is absolutely _hopeless_.

Doyoung raises his eyebrows, and Jaehyun reacts with a surprised _oh_. “since when? Weren’t you still together just last month?”

Mark nods. “Two weeks ago, actually. It’s, uh… complicated,” he cringes at his choice of word, but continues on, “like, super jumbled up, ya know?”

Jaehyun hums, and the topic is closed when he says, “Well, I hope you two get it sorted out soon. Johnny likes you too much, after all. Besides, you’ve been great help to him. It’ll be hard for him to find someone like you again – especially to stick around for long.”

_Johnny likes you too much, after all._

Mark’s heart jolts, and he can’t get those words to stop revolving in his head.

_#INTERLUDE: END_

•••

Here’s the thing — Johnny had never _ever_ wanted a muse before Mark.

Not because he wasn’t interested with the people he worked with. But, rather, Johnny just doesn’t understand what a muse really is. By literal definition, Johnny knows that a muse is simply a source of inspiration. Something that makes him want to pick up his DSLR camera and snap a photo. And Mark fits that criteria. A lot. Mark makes him want to take pictures that can flip the world 180 degrees on its axis – metaphorically, of course. He makes Johnny passionate to tune his skills more. And at the end of the day Mark is there, either waiting for him to come home after a tiring day of work or with a motivating text message that contains more emojis than words.

But with Mark, Johnny doesn’t want to just take pictures — no, he doesn’t want to only capture the moment as Mark looks into the camera with his big round eyes while he shoots several pictures of him. Johnny doesn’t just want to pick one single perfect photo of Mark and show it to the world and make a name for himself.

He wants to also create memories outside of his expensive lens. He wants to hold Mark’s hand and take Mark on cliché romantic dates and own him so Johnny can finally call Mark his. And he wants it to be reciprocated. But Mark is everyone else’s just as he is Johnny’s. Mark is just his muse – nothing more, nothing less. He is a source of inspiration and motivation in Johnny’s career, and the line is drawn at that. Mark is only supposed to exist in his professional life and not bleed into his personal life. Except Johnny’s never made their unsaid boundaries clear, and Mark will push as far as he can before retreating back to safety.

Johnny _wants_ Mark _, yearns_ for more of him _,_ and for the first time in his life, he doesn’t know what to about it.

And he’s getting tired of waiting it out.

Because he’s known damn well that he’s in love with Mark. Has been utterly and helplessly in love with him ever since he spoke to him that evening. Johnny doesn’t know how long he can keep it to himself. Doesn’t know how much longer he can pretend he isn’t in love every time Mark’s with him, every time he poses for Johnny, every time he sings his heart out for Johnny, every time Johnny kisses him and fucks him until he forgets his name.

He can’t lie to himself and say he doesn’t need Mark anymore. That he can replace Mark’s presence in his life just as easily.

Johnny unlocks his phone, typing in a set of numbers, and dials.

“Mark? Can we talk?”

•••

“Weren’t we done with talking?”

Johnny winces a bit, but replies nonetheless. “Please? At least let me clear things up.”

The line goes silent for a moment, and Johnny almost thinks Mark has ended the call. _Almost,_ because his voice finally comes through and says, “What is there to clear up? You were clear enough the last time.”

“Please?”

He hears the younger man sigh and get up from, what Johnny assumes is, his bed. “I’ll go to your place. And you better have a damn good explanation.”

When Johnny hears a set of three knocks, Johnny stands up from his chair so fast that he feels dizzy for a short moment. He gets to his feet, and opens the door.

Mark stands there. His hands are loose by his side, and Johnny notes that he looks as if out of place. Because Mark’s just standing there doing nothing, just like Johnny is, as if he’s a stranger again.

But then Johnny moves first, steps forward and pulls Mark into a hug. Mark freezes in place, no doubt surprised. Johnny can’t blame him. He tucks his chin on top of the younger man’s head. He finally feels Mark move, bending his arms so that he can clutch at Johnny’s shoulders through the gap between them. Johnny feels Mark pull them closer until he’s sure Mark can hear the fast thump of his heartbeats loud and clear.

“I’m sorry for being such a jerk to you, Mark,” Johnny starts. He’s aware that he’s broken their moment because Mark snorts and pulls off. It melts down the tension by a lot, and Johnny also laughs. Mark steps inside his apartment and pushes the door close behind him.

“Is that all you’re sorry for?” Mark asks, weak smile on his face as he looks up at Johnny’s face. Johnny can see the darker rings under his eyes more, when usually they lay in a fainter shade.

“I’m sorry for everything – I’m sorry for lying to you, I’m sorry for hurting your feelings, I’m sorry for ending things abruptly and giving no explanation. And I’m sorry for so much more.”

“You should be, man. You fucked so much things up,” Mark says, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“I love you, Mark, so much. Maybe you don’t remember saying it, but that night when you got too drunk you said it. And I was scared because I’ve always told myself you didn’t like me back, that even if you did, I couldn’t ever possibly make you happy.”

Mark stays silent, but then it is him who steps closer this time. He brings a hand to Johnny’s nape, pushing on the back of his head lightly to tilt his face down. Even then, Mark still has to stand on his tiptoes when he kisses Johnny softly. It’s sweet, none of the heat and lust shared between them. It’s a wisp of an answer that Johnny is slowly becoming sure of.

”I love you too, Johnny. And I was aware when I said all that. I wanted to stop loving you all alone – god, I wanted you to say it to me too. I guess I should’ve chosen a better timing, huh?”

Johnny laughs, and Mark laughs too. He leans down and places another kiss on the younger’s lips. He leans his forehead against Mark’s. With their faces close to each other, Johnny can feel every breath Mark takes.

“Be mine.”

And Johnny swears, the grin that lights up Mark’s face is so much brighter than the sun will ever hope to be.

“I already am. Ever since day one.”

Everything after happens in what Mark can only describe as a frenzied haze.

Johnny pushes in with a low groan, and Mark releases a breath he didn’t know he’s been holding. He rolls his hips down against the older man’s and they both moan at the sensation.

And when Mark claws red lines down his back with blunt nails – grabs him closer than what he thought was possible – Johnny thinks this is it. This is what has been missing his whole life. The joy that comes with loving and being loved. Of his soul becoming whole for the first time. They come together, heartbeats in sync all the while. He feels warm after, not just physically, and he feels complete.

Mark's eyes flutter, his mind gently tipping over to move him to the edge of sleep. His body slumps, lets the exhaustion take over, lets Johnny's warm arms snake around his waist and embrace him. He can feel his warm exhales over his nape — soothing, he thinks.

He asks, "I’m not dreaming all of this, am I?”

Johnny laughs, still out of breath. He turns to face Mark and cups his cheek. Mark leans into his palm with a smile.

“You wouldn’t feel anything if this was a dream, right?”

Mark giggles and buries his face in the crook of his neck. It’s quiet, for a moment Johnny thinks Mark has fallen asleep. But then his soft voice says, “Will you still love me tomorrow?"

That is a question Johnny can answer too easily. Mark feels more than sees Johnny nod his head, whispering back a soft, "Of course I will. I'll love you tomorrow, the day after that, and the day after that too. I’ll love you forever."

•••

They fall into a routine that can only be described as domestic.

Ever since Johnny’s found a job as a photographer at an indie fashion magazine – ‘Neo Zone’ is its name ─ he’s working all day from nine to five. It makes it harder to spend mornings together, and for that Johnny is apologetic. Mark is okay with it, so they make use of the short time before their day starts. Johnny wakes up at seven, takes a shower and wakes Mark up next. They eat breakfast – usually consisting of leftovers from previous night’s dinner – and are out the door at half past eight. They take the subway and Mark steps out first, en route to his university building. Johnny still has two stops to go before he gets out at his stop.

He works and clocks out at exactly half past five, and takes another subway to his next destination. The subway is always packed because of rush hour, and Johnny breathes in relief when he finally steps out at Hongdae station.

He walks to the park there, and makes sure to find the person he's so familiar with – none other than Mark, his _boyfriend_. Johnny stills feel giddy every time he says that word in his head.

Sometimes, Mark will sing melancholic songs, tunes from the old radio they have in their apartment. Most times he sings romance songs, anything from drama soundtracks to pop songs. It earns him the most money, much of them coming from couples spending a night out.

Johnny always sits and watches, and on slower nights Mark usually plays a song for him. As the streetlights shine over Mark, he'll look right into Johnny's eyes as he says every line in the song. It’s how Mark is, quiet with his love and needs a medium to express it. It's alright, though, because Johnny understands him – understands the ways Mark communicates how he feels for Johnny.

And when it's close to midnight, Mark sings the last song with Johnny beside him. Sometimes Johnny joins him in singing, other nights he lets Mark do all of it. Mark collects all the money in the guitar case and puts it in his bag, Johnny helps him pack the guitar and carries it on his shoulders. They walk to the station hand in hand and take the last subway home.

And the days repeat.

•••

It's a summer night, and for once they're going out without any real purpose. Just for a walk in Myeongdong as they enjoy the warm breeze.

Mark has his right hand in the pocket of his jeans, scrunching up the tee he’s wearing that he stole from Johnny’s wardrobe. It’s positively too big on him, but Johnny likes the oversized look so that’s okay. His left arm is locked onto Johnny's. It makes walking difficult, but he doesn't mind it - no, absolutely not, especially when Mark leans his head on him as they pass every brightly-lit shop.

They walk into some of the stores, because Johnny likes fashion and Mark likes Johnny, so he naturally follows. He'll try on some outfits for fun, and Mark laughs every time Johnny strikes an exaggerated pose. They step out of the store empty-handed, with Mark still giggling and Johnny still smiling.

And Johnny is reminded of why he likes being with Mark. Mark’s easy-going and is filled to the brim with joy. He’s all sweet smiles and too-loud laughs, but when Mark’s happy so is Johnny. He talks too much and is so easy to rile up, especially when he gets flustered afterwards and decides to hide his face in Johnny’s chest.

But most importantly – being with Mark is fun.

It’s fun, when Mark pulls him by the hand out the door for some _adventure_ he claims the day to have in store. It’s fun, when Mark takes Johnny’s camera and tinkers around with it. Their roles switch as Mark snaps amateur-level photos of Johnny with them, and he makes sure to keep every single picture that comes out of it. It’s fun, especially when Mark catches Johnny humming songs that Mark had busked to. Mark promises to teach him the full song so that Johnny can sing it with him one day soon. It’s fun, even when they’re just lazing around and enjoying each other’s presence, trading lazy kisses that leave Johnny on cloud nine.

Being with Mark is the greatest thing Johnny’s ever known, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world

•••

**Author's Note:**

> p.s. this is the most words i've ever written in one fic oof. lemme know what you think abt the fic uwu. reference for mark's outfit: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jFr-fEPvspw&feature=youtu.be
> 
> hit me up on twitter @thirstvxq


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